


Cold Winter's Needle

by mommyshearth



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Post-World War II, nyo!Germany - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-08 00:11:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6831010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mommyshearth/pseuds/mommyshearth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Strangely, no other nations had tried yet to sneak the cookies Russia brought into the meeting room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Winter's Needle

_A… needle?  
_  
Ludwige jerked at the sudden hand on her shoulder, turning with eyes wide to see a tall man standing behind her. Red liquid pooled in the palm of the hand that she’d been coughing into, just visible to the nation who’d confronted her.  
  
“Russland?”  
  
He nodded back in response, greeting in turn with an equally as simple “Germaniya.” His hand twisted against her near-crushed shoulder, and she spun around to lessen the pressure. His other arm immediately shoved against her chest, pushing her into the counter behind.  
  
“Ngh!”  
  
She groaned as her bandaged head hit the shelves, delicate china shaking within at the force. The elbow of her uninjured arm collided with the edge of the counter.  
  
_Really? It just had to hit the funny bone…  
_  
“Did you need something, Ivan?” she asked plainly.  
  
The taller blonde simply smiled, although in Germany’s opinion that may have been scarier than any other alternative. His arms retracted, but Germany knew better than to move from her position. Seemingly content with her compliance, he unfurled his scarf and shrugged off his long coat, lying both on the island table perhaps a foot behind and to the left.  
  
"There's been a lot of conflict revolving around your more... personal punishment, as I'm sure you're aware, Ludwige Bielschmidt," the Russian commented.  
  
"Ha?"  
  
His purple eyes seemed to be staring into her very soul. Oh yes, she'd known since losing the war that her fellow nations wouldn't let her human form off the hook, but what exactly were Braginski's motives?  
  
Her own eyes narrowed as she stared up at he who towered above her. From him, she could feel nothing but a heavy coldness; although that was how it had always been. The embodiment of Russia was shrouded in a fog of mystery and threat through which nothing could penetrate.  
  
She wondered what could have done this to him.  
  
_How cruel.  
_  
"What does my inevitable punishment have to do with me sneaking cookies into the meeting room from our tiny kitchen?"  
  
"So that's what you were trying to do?" Russia asked with a small laugh, swaying back a bit before forwards and into her personal space once more. "I'd have thought that you would've noticed how, for once, no one else tried to do the same."  
  
She stumbled away, one hand reaching out for the fire alarm just in case as alarms of her own rang loud in her mind.  
  
Was he the one to-?  
  
She was coughing again, hacking up blood and saliva. Her chest heaved, the damaged skin and muscles below her bandages tearing and beginning to bleed out again as well. She fell shakily to her knees, clutching at her pounding head with her arm not in a sling, no longer trying to keep the red from staining her clothes. Above, Russia stared on coldly, tsking at her pained display and turning away to reassemble his regular wear. His footsteps were barely audible somehow as he walked towards the doorway, only pausing to mutter a few select words just loud enough for her to hear.  
  
"It's nothing compared to the pain that you put my people through."  
  
It never would be, a fact that she'd long accepted. Her eyes watered as she began to choke, gasping for air but unable to draw even a dust speck's worth.  
  
_I'm sorry._


End file.
